Library Blog

Meet Lady Maria Egerton

In November 2017 the Library received a handsome bequest from member Eve Kingsland: a portrait of a beautiful and aristocratic young woman, Lady Maria Egerton. Lady Maria turns up around the edges of numerous historical sources, but she remains something of a mystery.

Born Maria Scott Jackson, Lady Maria was the daughter and sole heir of Thomas Scott Jackson, one of the Directors of the Bank of England. She presumably grew up at least partly at his home in Bedford Square, then in Middlesex and now part of the London urban area.

Sir John served in the formal office of Sheriff of Cheshire in the 1790s and was recorded as a major in the Royal Chester Volunteers in 1807, during the Napoleonic wars. In that same year, he was elected to represent Chester in the House of Commons, promising the electors “the best exertions of an honest and indepedent mind.” His politics look somewhat controversial at the time and fairly right-wing by modern standards. He continued in Parliament through 1818, closing his career with a duel against one of his rivals.

Sir John died May 24, 1825. Lady Maria died in August of 1830. The couple had no surviving children.

A guess based on Lady Maria’s clothing in our portrait suggests that she sat for it shortly after the turn of the 19th century. The artist was Sir William Beechey (1753-1839), a notable portrait and landscape painter. A student of the more famous Joshua Reynolds, he was appointed portrait painter to Queen Charlotte in 1793. He was made a knight and a member of the Royal Academy in 1798 after receiving acclaim for a large painting involving King George III and the Prince of Wales. Many of Beechey’s works are included in the Frick Collection’s Art Reference Library FRESCO database, but not the portrait of Lady Maria. The Oxford Companion to Western Art is unimpressed by Beechey, calling him “an uninspired but conscientious painter noted for his craftsmanship and the accuracy of his likenesses rather than originality.”

There are the outlines of our portrait-sitter’s existence. But other than her loveliness—accurately portrayed, if we believe the Oxford Companion—it gives us very little of the woman herself. Was she kindly? Haughty? A churchgoer, or a partier, or both? Did she regret the handoff of Frogmore House, or was it a relief to have the old pile off her to-do list? Did she pine after babies, or did she prefer to be left alone with books like the one she’s holding in the portrait?

Lady Maria’s personality and inner life may be lost to history. Our collections are strong, however, on books about her era and its women, aristocratic and not. If your interest is piqued, you might try one of these varied titles: